Truly the Most Dangerous
by ArashiGoddess
Summary: Of all places to be reincarnated into, it just happens to be in a world where everyone is out to get you. Regina's only ally was a reaper who was tasked with making sure she dies in her second life. Unfortunately, she kept being reborn until she met someone from her past again on her fifth life and he was just an undertaker, and he wasn't as keen to let her die again like before.
1. Prologue: Her Previous Lives

_Does magic exist? _In _our world, _I mean.

The word magic could mean many different things; from the small tricks that baffle the minds of the people, to actual miracles that not even science could explain. But if that were what we saw magic as, then it exists. It happens all the time to many different people from many different places. It was even considered… _normal_, in some places. Like tribes that believe that the cogs that make our world spin were magic itself.

But if we were to look at a different definition for magic, then magic would seem so much more impossible, don't you think?

Imagine, there exist multiple worlds and universes out there. Some different from ours, some almost the same instance, and some just unbelievable. We all have different beliefs as to how we came about to thinking these worlds were real. We even had a scientific explanation for them but… we do not know how to traverse to these worlds. They exist and yet, _not _at the same time. But there was a way to travel to these worlds.

_Magic._

That is the only reason why we had been hindered from travelling to these places. It's because we don't believe in magic.

Like the tribes had believed in, magic controls this world of ours. Plus many more others out there. That very same force kept these worlds from interacting as that would only spell disaster. One traveler from one world to another would cause a tiny ripple that would soon evolve into a raging tsunami that would destroy everything. Just one tiny existence out of place in these worlds and those who control magic are instantly alerted.

They know you exist now, and some of them have one job, and _one job only; _that, is to eliminate the _pests._

**To eliminate you.**

And they only have one kind of people that they hunt down: the reincarnates. Souls who were meant to be collected by the reapers long, long ago and were unsuccessful in doing so. Perhaps it had been because their forces lacked in numbers but several people escaped their grasps again and again. In turn, they continue being reborn, enjoying the perks of having their memories intact.

They were a menace to even both demons and angels alike.

Absolute pests.

Until the worlds had grown old, where every living being would refuse to go on, all three of these beings knew that these reincarnates would continue on and on.

I was one of these reincarnates. And with every single life I've lived, I've been matched with different reapers who are out to make sure that once I die, _I would never return to earth once again._

Except… they were always unsuccessful. I didn't know how I managed to be reborn five times already and they couldn't seem to seal my fate. As annoyed as these reapers were in my existence, I was just as annoyed. I had wanted to die four lives ago. And yet here I am again. _Alive,_ going through the same stages of life that I had already been through. Learning how to crawl, walk, speak, read, dance, play, sing, write. _All over again._

At this new life, I had already accepted since my body was a wee toddler that this would be my fate until the end of time. To cause trouble in this new world and inevitably just hurt the people that surround me.

Perhaps that reaper was right.

I _am _just a **pest.**

* * *

In my first life, I was a girl. The sole daughter of a poor man. We barely had anything to eat in our village and my dresses were worn and tattered, filled with holes and patches. But my father and I were happy as we were. We were just glad that the war with the nearby kingdom hadn't separated just yet. And it was that way for years until I turned nineteen.

My father had been struck with an illness that stopped him from getting out of bed, much less to see the sun. But he kept smiling as usual and I kept doing the same while working on the fields, working hard to keep us fed and to afford whatever medicine I could to prolong his life.

That was also around the same time that I met a boy. He was much younger than I was and kept himself secluded. He worked the fields as I do but he liked to do things on his own. He never asked for help nor talked to anyone. He just went there to work, then receive money as his payment at the end of the day. People often talked about him, but there were rarely any good words passing their lips. To them, the boy might be a bastard son, turned away by his father and abandoned by his mother because of shame.

Because he never talked to anyone, he never diffused this rumor and so it kept growing and growing amongst the people who worked alongside us. Meanwhile, I thought the same thing and did not associate myself with him.

But one day, I changed my mind about him.

It was early in the morning. I had been asked to make sure that the tools everyone would be using are in proper order. On my way, there, by the side of the road, was that boy. I didn't come close so I couldn't hear his words but he was smiling. It was different from what I had been used to seeing whenever my eyes crossed his form from far away. At that moment, I decided to approach him.

…

_I was turned away._

'Well, no matter. I could always just talk to him again,' was what I thought to myself. And I did. I never stopped until he didn't even respond to me negatively. I mean, he was ignoring me. But it was a start, wasn't it?

I continued chatting with him aimlessly, even though it would be only considered as one-sided. I had thought of him negatively before and now, I had only wanted to get to know him and what good he has in him. He wasn't feeding that stray cat for nothing now, was he?

Soon enough, meeting that boy to talk to him became a routine. He was stubborn with ignoring me and at times he would even walk the other when he meets me by the road. But I believed in baby steps. One of these days, I would hear from him.

Then… that day came. Except, it was for something we both shouldn't have forgotten. But we did.

It was our first encounter with a _Reaper._

I was walking home and along the way, I managed to grab the boy and have him walk with me. I always did happen to see him every morning before I headed to work so I figured it wouldn't hurt if I walked with him back home too. I just thought it would be a good way to get him to open up if we spend more time together.

But when I opened the door to my home, standing above my father's bed was an unknown man. In his hand, he was brandishing what looked to be a hunting knife. What surrounded him was these film reel showing the life that my father had lived, as if they were ribbons dancing in the wind. I saw my face on the more recent ones.

I dropped the basket of bread that I was holding from shock, prompting the man to turn his gaze on me. I hadn't even noticed that Wilhelm had run up to me in alarm until he had shaken me and grabbed me to run. We only got to take a few steps before we both got dizzy and slowly stopped in our tracks. That was the moment that we 'forgot.' All the dread that I felt was quickly forgotten just like the reason why the two of us were in front of my house in the first place.

Smiling at the confused boy, I bid goodbye before turning around to head home. Only to stop at my tracks at the sight of father, covered in his vomit of blood.

My world was quick to fall apart. My father had been so healthy and cheerful just that morning. I was ecstatic to come back home too as I had bought bread from town, just like he had asked me to. But then, he was _gone._ I had no one left in my life anymore.

As I collapsed on the floor in a sobbing mess, I vaguely registered Wilhelm as he silently placed his hand on my head.

And he said, "It's going to be alright."

Three days after, another tragedy struck.

_Wilhelm was found hanging by his house._

I couldn't remember the exact details of how I died anymore but… I do recall the unbearable pain I felt after I lost the two of them. The pity from other people didn't make me feel any better and slowly, I closed myself in behind my home's doors. I didn't go out anymore; and if I were to guess, I must've starved myself silly.

Then… I heard footsteps come near. My eyes had been blurry but the closer the person got, the clearer he became. It was a man, wearing a neat set of clothes. He pushed up his round glasses at me before the glint in his hunting knife caught my attention. As if I had just remembered an old memory, it suddenly came back to me as to who he was.

"You remembered." He briefly looked surprised before he placed the blade in my neck. "Well, no matter. You'll forget everything soon enough anyway."

It felt so cold. I recall wondering whether my father felt this same cold as I did. If he had, then I should've gone home earlier that day and stayed with him until his last breath. It was scary to die like this. Even more so now that my body was weak and unable to move.

"C… Can I… see him?" I croaked out, almost a whisper, as tears that filled my eyes fell.

The man didn't move. "See who?"

"…my father."

There was no emotion in his eyes. Not even my image was reflected in them, and for a moment, he was silent.

…

..

.

Then… he brought down his knife.

* * *

My second life came as a surprise, and I was four when I realized this.

Before, I was doing what all other kids my age were doing. I was playing, chasing around butterflies in the afternoon, eating sweets behind my parents back, and making a fuss when no one wanted to play with me. I had grown up normally, and once I was capable of sufficiently thinking for myself, reality hit me harder than it ever did. I was in an unknown place, being taken cared of by people who I do not know, and talking a language I had not heard of before.

And what was scarier was how I had felt so in place before I realized I do not belong.

Once I remembered what had happened to me, people started to notice that I have changed. The inexperienced way I talked, all of sudden disappeared; I stopped playing with the kids; and… I stopped being bubbly.

It was all so, so _wrong_ for me. Much like how wrong it must've felt for the people who were around. It was like I turned into a different person that wasn't anyone's child or friend.

By the time that I was ten, I killed myself by jumping in front of a nearby traffic.

It had come as a surprise for the lady that birthed me. I had been holding unto her hand one moment and the next, I had ripped away from her and leaped in front of these things they call 'cars.' I have seen what they can do to adult humans when hit; imagine what it would be like if it had hit a child? I was hoping that it would hurt a lot and it would kill me but… before the lump of metal even came into contact with me, time suddenly slowed down.

My body had felt heavy, and people around me slowed down. From the cars reflection, I can see the woman I was with reaching out to me. Her expression was distraught, as the thought of losing her child was too much to bear and she just wanted to save me. People around me had similar horrified faces to them. I slowed down from my run until I had stopped in the middle of the street.

_How lovely._

From in front of me, I head a tutting sound from someone, making me jolt. I looked at where it had come from and saw someone who had no problems moving at his own pace. I watched him as he played with the frozen people at his own pace. He had an unnaturally coloured red hair, messily cut down to his shoulder blades. Seeing his formal attire, glasses, and the small sickle he held made him remind me of a certain reaper from my previous life. (Though at the time, I had no idea they were reapers.)

I watched wide-eyed as he approached me, bending down to examine my face. "You lot are appearing more and more, don't you?"

I could only look up at him confused as to what he meant.

"Though, are you sure about this? You still have so much to learn and having you as one of us would be boring." He had asked in a serious tone, though his sharp toothed grin remained on his face.

Focused on what was important, I ignored his question. "How did you do that?"

Now, it was his turn to look confused. "Do what?"

"Stop time."

He thought about it for a moment before his smile came back. "Why don't you ask yourself that?"

At that, my confusion turned into dread. I looked over around us once more. The people, the animals, the birds, the fountain, the cars; everything was frozen. If I had understood what this person had been enunciating, then that would mean…

I looked at my small shaking hands. I couldn't believe it.

"I…" I swallowed with much difficulty. "I did this?"

Just as that realization came, time suddenly started once more. Everything resumed as if time had never stopped in the first place, with every one none the wiser to what had gone on.

As for me, the car that had stopped also continued on its way and with not even a warning, _I was hit._

Just like that, my second life had come to an end.

* * *

Unfortunately, even with a plan like suicide, I was still reborn. It seems that even if I end my life of my own according, it doesn't suddenly make the cycle of rebirth stop. Though I do wonder whether my life with my father had been my first life or had I a different life before too but just couldn't remember?

In any case, I was reborn again and this time, I had been of the opposite gender.

And yes, _I had checked. _My eyes hadn't been wrong. _I was now a boy._

Still, as displeased as I was about my apparent position of still being among the living, my current circumstances had me curious enough that I hadn't committed suicide.

…_yet._

I spent years trying to learn how to be of the opposite gender. It was hard, I must admit. Along with hiding the fact that I was older mentally than most of my peers, but I had to keep appearances of a normal boy to my own father such that he wouldn't suspect a change happened to me. Learning a new language as well was a task of its own too. Because I had remembered my past life by the age of five, I had been at the stage where I can understand others when they spoke. But it still took me years to get to the point where I can speak on the same level as them.

Don't get me started on the writing the darn thing as well. These… _kanjis _were enough to make my head hurt the first time I laid eyes on a newspaper. Why did they had to have such complicated letters?

By the time that I was fifteen, falling in love like all the others was a lot harder. I just didn't see what was good with liking _girls _when I had been more interested with boys since before. I couldn't see myself falling in love anytime soon, or even at all. But even as I turned up my nose on them when too many decided to confess on Valentine's, I still managed to fall in love.

It was a first for me, in all three lives I had lived so far. More surprisingly was the person of my affections had been a girl as well.

We had met when I skipped class one day. There was a vending machine on the fourth floor beside the stairs that was mostly hidden from view and I had taken to hiding there when I hadn't felt like dealing with school. I was sitting by the door to the rooftop, almost on the verge of falling asleep when I heard the machine being used. I was alert the next moment and decided to peek which teacher it had been but, it was a student. A girl from my class though I hadn't remembered her name.

I thought that she was skipping like I was, and I was right. But it was for the wrong reason.

She was crying and went to buy water from the looks of it.

I had an inkling as to why though.

She was bullied, a common target as she was always so quiet so when other girls started to make fun of her, she always just sat there and smiled at them, as if they hadn't bothered her. Even when they called her names and laughed at her. I always thought that it was fine as she was handling herself well, and my friends agreed… But it seemed we hadn't seen everything yet.

I hadn't talked to her at that moment. I planned not to. But the next day, I decided to do something about her situation.

When the usual jeering and mocking began, I had come prepared. Opening the can of soda I had bought earlier before coming in, I took a sip and came near the group of girls. Before they could even know what was happening, their leader suddenly found herself wet as I poured my drink over her head. There was outrage from them, especially the girl I had just showered with soda, but I was hearing none of it. With my hands in my pockets, I asked them,

"Are you proud of yourselves? Such disgusting behaviour. Before calling someone else a whore, maybe look in the mirror first as you fuck Ari behind Sousuke's back."

_Ah, have I mentioned that little secret I know? Probably not. But now it's not so secret anymore, was it?_

…_I probably should've used milk instead of soda._

With that, chaos ensued and I turned to walk back to my laughing friends. They had their phones out, capturing the fight in the moment. Ah, the wonders of technology. With just a simple click, something as humiliating as getting caught cheating could be immortalized forever for the world to see. And for teenagers like us, it could even destroy a life (not that I gave a fuck). They didn't have these fancy phones hundreds and hundreds of years ago but what use they have.

Later that day, I found myself being confessed to once again. Surprisingly, it was that crying girl. In her hand, she held a simple white paper, not even placed inside a cute envelop before handing it to me but… I accepted it only to throw it away.

She looked heartbroken, until I invited her to eat with me before we go home. Then that sullen look from her face disappeared, replaced by confusion. She told me that she hadn't understood what I mean until I told her that I don't like receiving letters. I prefer it if she told me the contents of her letter rather than let me read it for myself.

When her face turned a bright shade of red, I realized that even that would take a while.

Sighing, I just herded her to where we would eat while muttering, _"Friends first, it is."_

It's been five years since then, and I was now at college. Kouharu and I were still together; we even attended the same university just so that we could be with each other.

I tried tapping into my time-pausing powers as well but aside from just making myself look like a fool, I was not able to do it like last time. I spent all those years wondering what I was missing just so that I could do it again. But.. I never did found the answer to it. And I wasn't about to jump in front of cars just to find out if _that _was the answer I was looking for.

If I hadn't mentioned it before, I'm now afraid of the darn things. It caused troubles as I never want to be in major roads so I mostly took my time getting to all my schools via bike but when it couldn't be helped (like now when Kouharu asked to accompany her and her little brother for a walk through town), I swallowed my fears and went. Though I stayed almost hugging the sides of buildings when we walked.

We were having a fun and simple time, but even that has to end as well.

It was an accident. The little kid was walking between us two and I bumped into him while walking through people in front of a busy store. That made him let go of the ball he was holding and it bounced off into the street. My girlfriend had asked me to get it right from the middle of the street as she held her brother to prevent him from going after it but I just stared at her.

_That was right. I hadn't told her about my fear. I didn't plan to._

Even when I forced myself to move, I just instantly freeze up. And it was clear, I was not about to fetch it for her brother.

"…maybe we should just get ano—"

Just as I spoke, her brother broke free from her hold and went out into the street, Kouharu yelling after him. Unlike me, she had followed after her brother without hesitation. And unlike her, I had just watched as it didn't felt like there was any trouble.

_What was wrong with me? I was only concerned for my own well-being and merely watched as the woman I promised myself I would marry put herself in danger. I was doing nothing._

It was only when one car looked like it was heading straight for them did it suddenly click how much of a dick I actually was. See, if it weren't for the true danger that was about to happen, the very real possibility of losing Kouharu never would've entered my mind. _All of a sudden, I was afraid of losing her._

Before I knew it, I made to run to them, just as the two of them saw the car that was heading for them. My body felt heavy and everything started to slow down. Our immediate surrounding started warping slightly, as well. At first, I chalked it up to adrenaline… but when I got to the siblings and tried to get her away, I found that she wasn't moving. _Neither was her brother._

I found myself remembering my past life, when I had first realized this power of mine. I had jumped in front of a car to end my life. That danger, I now realized, was what activated it then and now. And the realization that I had done it was the reason why time resumed once I again.

I only had a few moments to get Kouharu and her brother into safety.

With that, I pushed her to the sidewalk just as time started to advance. Our eyes met for a moment, and I made no indication that I was going to move. I didn't have to, I didn't have time, as ironic as that statement was.

But it was true.

Then, I was hit. Unfortunately, it wasn't like my last life where it had been quick and the pain was gone instantly. This time however, I was able to stay alive even after being hit.

_Fuck, that hurt._

I wasn't about to survive this. I was sure of it. So when Kouharu had come to my side crying, all I could do was try and wipe her tears away. More and more just kept coming and she was begging me to stay with her. I wasn't about to give her hope that I'll live through this when I was losing feeling of my body. I smiled at her, memorizing her features as it would be the last time I would be seeing her and told her,

"This was what I had been afraid of."

"Shut up! You were brave, you saved me and my brother. I have to thank you still. You can't leave me yet. Not when —"

"I love you… idiot…"

She held unto my hand before resigning, muttering as she pressed my hand into her cheek, "I love you too…"

Every then went dark, the last I ever saw unfortunately was a familiar red-headed man as he tutted at me.

_There goes marrying Kouharu._

* * *

The moment I regained my memories, I immediately wept.

I hadn't cried in my past two lives, ever since I had lost my father. Yet here I am, attacked once again by grief after losing the woman I loved. You know, in my second life. I tried my best not to get attached to anyone, not even to the two who brought me to life. It was what made it so easy for me to kill myself. I had wanted nothing but to end it all.

Letting my guard down in my third life was my worst mistake yet. But it made me _truly happy _and at the time, it was what only mattered. I had thought there was a chance I was to be reincarnated after that but I had been determined to be with Kouharu for the rest of that _life. _I was content to live out my life for once.

_And then it was just—_

…and then it was just ripped away. But it was either that or I would've been left there grieving for my love's death.

That was what scared me the most.

So even when I had cried like what I had been doing now, I just told myself that it was better this way. The downside to this was that I don't think I would ever find myself falling in love with anyone again nor would I ever want to.

22 years later into this new life, I was now twenty six years old (still the opposite sex) and I kept true to my word. Partying, drinking, fucking; I was constantly surrounded by people, befriended a lot and yet not. I never let anyone get close to me and know who I truly am. I was committed to keeping everyone away that in my effort to grief away my life, I was ironically surrounded by them still.

But as long as I'm alone in that sense, then that was fine.

Throughout the years, I found myself tackling my fear of automobiles head on as well. Before, I had been adamant about not getting anywhere near the thing but now, as soon as I was able, I got my permit, drove a car for the first time, then got my license. At that point though, I had mixed with some interesting individuals and my goal of conquering my fear became so much more; I was now participating in illegal street racing.

We got into a lot of trouble everytime but it's the times when we were free to do as we wished before the cops came that got me into entering again and again. The high I always get was unbelievable; from the speed I usually wouldn't be able to reach in other roads, the adrenaline as the finish line draws to close, the feeling of _winning._ Who knew something like this was withheld from me before because of my fear?

This life was definitely the most exciting one out all.

Tonight, under the light of the full moon, I was in a race again. The finish line was in an abandoned warehouse and through the empty streets from the edge of the downtown, I was neck and neck with another racer; Mike, as he liked to be called. There was only one more turn left and I took it drifting. The warehouse and the gang waiting, sitting by the crates, came into view.

Because I had been at the left side and rounded the corner early, I got the lead like I had wanted and in seconds, I was about to win.

Until, I found Mike passing me and in that moment, with my heart beating loudly in my ears, time started to slow down and shift my surroundings. My body felt heavy for a moment, and in panic as the shifting turned into tearing, I slammed my feet into the brakes as hard as I could but it was too late.

Whatever it was that I was doing, it was unbelievable as I found a set of bookshelves from just beyond where the tearing started. Like always, as soon as I had become aware of what I was doing, time started to advance and the sound of screeching tires deafened me for a moment. My still slowing car teared the space further as I passed and I found myself slamming into the bookshelves in that same instance.

I was fortunate that I had kept my feet on the breaks so I hadn't been injured much. I did however get dizzy from the impact, my vision being filled by flying papers as I pushed the airbag away from my face. I managed to open the car door and stumble out where I was greeted by men dressed in suits and carrying various weapons in their hands. They had shock etched in their faces as they stared at me. I could understand them though. I felt as out of place as they are looking at me with my plaid shirt and jeans.

I was not exactly the type to wear formal like they do.

My confusion from seeing them however was cut short by someone speaking from amongst the crowd of familiar bespectacled men watching me.

"Intruder."

Only when I had realized what was said did I find myself with a large blade stabbed through my chest. "Agh…!" I tried to keep myself from screaming out from the pain but I found that to be a difficult task when a _scythe_ is currently buried in me painfully. I glared directly at the yellow green eyes of the grey-haired man in front of me, sneering,

"Penetrating me without permission. That's rude, you know?"

As soon as I had said it, I started coughing out blood. Though when I had looked at my bloodied hand, I saw that it was starting to disintegrate in the air into this little boxes. It was as if I was disappearing right then and there. This was definitely a weird way to go.

And then, one of the more surprising things to happen was the sudden appearance of the familiar reels of film pouring from my wound. I haven't seen them since my first life and it suddenly clicked who these people surrounding me are.

_Reapers._

"Great," I muttered, as I watched all of my four lives flash before my eyes. For the first time in decades, I saw Kouharu's face all over again and tears prodded at the edge of my vision.

Murmurs from the bystanders suddenly turned into outrage and I was bombarded with voices from all over.

"Reincarnated!"

"She must disposed of quickly!"

"136649, take care of her."

At the order from one commanding voice, the man in front of me changed his expression from his usual blank to a pained one. Hiding his face in a way that others couldn't see but I, he looked at me with those unfamiliar eyes, searching for something from my face. My memories from my first life flew by his face as he did this and then, in a low, almost silent tone, he whispered,

"_Regina, it's me."_

I haven't heard that name in a long time. And my eyes widened in shock. I haven't uttered that name to single soul since I had been reborn again and again. I trusted no one enough to even mention my real self to them and yet… this _reaper?_

Even when I was having trouble breathing, I spat to him hatefully, "Why… do you call my name?"

In that moment, as if fueled by my anger, my powers awoken again and I found myself staring in those greenish eyes as they stared through me unblinkingly. Everyone stopped moving and I could feel my body feeling heavy in response to it.

I heaved a heavy sigh, trying my best not to slack as the scythe's blade was keeping me in place. I couldn't move, and my hands trembled from the pain. I can feel myself drifting into that familiar cold once again.

I was about to die. But if that were the case, then I want to die by my own terms not be 'disposed of' as these reapers had fondly called erasing me from existence. I could tell that it would unfavorable towards me.

And yet, wasn't that what I had always wanted? To die, finally?

I let out a weak chuckle, raising my hands to my face, only to see that the disintegration had come up to my forearm before I stopped time. I could no longer fell my legs as well and I wondered whether that meant it had succumbed to the disintegration or that was just the side effects of being near death.

At this point, I couldn't even tell. But what I do know was that, for the first time, I was _afraid._

I was sure that it was because I had become used to living life afterlife. Losing father and Kouharu… loved ones are always the downside to it but… just a little more, _I want to live._

I want to figure out these powers of mine.

I want to know what these reapers play in this game called life and why they were so adamant about killing me.

And finally, this man in front of me, I want to know how he knew my name from long ago? Spending half a century living in different lives had me forget who I really was but this person apparently hadn't.

_I feel that there was more I have yet to know._

My hold on time was slipping and slowly, it started to tick once more. I wasn't about to let them kill me first and so I decided to end it, like I always seem to do for all lives now. So even when it had hurt, I forced myself to slide further and further up until the skull with the crown of thorns of the scythe was pressing against me.

At that point, I could barely move anymore and my consciousness faded fast. My collapsing body was caught in the man's arms as he started to move at a normal pace. Maybe it had been because my head was leaning against his shoulder, but I heard his tender voice before I died.

"It's going to be alright."

…

..

.

"_I'll see you soon."_

And for a moment, I saw a face I haven't seen in a while.

* * *

A/N: _Second story in the series 'Hit List: Reincarnated Souls'! My OC, Regina, is going be the one who actively tries to figure out the truth behind her reincarnation as out of my three OCs, she's the one who's motivated and happens to have a lot of time on her hands._

_Also, this turned a bit painful to write halfway through but I'm glad I finished it. I was actually a bit satisfied writing about her third and fourth life._

_I hope this was enjoyable to read and let me know what you think!_


	2. Chapter 1: Her Fifth Life

_edit 1/20/2020: spell-checked and edited the whole chapter. added a few lines spoken between the characters as well so if you want to read it again, you can see some new things._

* * *

Pain.

My childhood mostly consisted of pain.

From the moment I was born, to the day that I first spoke, and the moment I walked; everyday had been _painful._

I was born in the slums to a lone mother who didn't even know who my father was. It was expected. She was a prostitute, so I doubt she kept tabs on who she was with every single night.

We had a small one floor house, crammed together with all the other ransacked and dirty homes in our area. If you see the state of our house, imagine _our _state as human beings. We were always dirty, and my dress consisted of nothing but a linen shift, a lone petticoat, and sometimes only a shawl to keep me warm when the winters turn harsh.

I had my mother beside me during tough times, so you would think that with the both of us together, we could overcome everything.

…

..

.

…that couldn't be much farther from the truth.

My mother wanted _nothing _to do with me. I was her first pregnancy and during the months when she was obviously pregnant with me, customers didn't want to be with her. As a result, she suffered more from poverty. She had no money, much less something to eat, and merely lived off of small changes she was tossed at the streets by the middle-class families that passed by.

In her mind, if she had suffered back then, _I was to suffer right now too._

I think she just wanted a reason to get rid of me. Even the tiniest of offenses, I was rewarded with hurt. She took out her anger and frustration out on me, especially on her worst days. Always being beaten, I couldn't even remember the last time she was ever good to me.

_When she had been a good mother._

At one point, I was convinced that she never was.

Even so, I wasn't one to back down. I, Mary Rose Nichols, was just as bad as my mother.

Every time she tried to hurt me, I didn't hesitate to fight back. Even when she had been bigger than I, even when she had taken a thick stick to smack me with, _even when she grabbed at my hair and told me how ugly I was,_ I never stopped for a moment and fought back.

I forgot the moment when I had decided that, but all I knew was that I didn't want to hurt anymore. If she was to make me feel pain, then I was to do the same to her. That was how she viewed things, right?

And if there was one thing that I could say I inherited from her, it was my temper, it seems.

She hated me.

And I, in turn, hated her even more.

So when my memories from my past lives came back at the age of five, the first thing I did was cuss her out. From here on earth to the high heavens above. Sometimes even down below at hell.

When I did so, she had looked surprised for the first time. Even when the two of us fought, I never inherited her crude way of speaking. Yet here I was, _worse than a sailor himself._

But she merely doubled her efforts.

"_How dare you talk to me that way!"_

Even when I turned my hateful gaze at her, she hadn't cowered and instead sneered at me as she dragged by the hair and locked me in my room. I kicked and screamed profanities at her, even behind the closed door.

But I could do nothing but seethe as I heard the front door open and close.

_She left._

_She left _me_ all alone._

Knowing her, she wasn't about to come back anytime soon. If I was lucky, she'll stop flirting with her customers and come back the next day.

Until then, I could only do nothing but hope that my strength as a kid would be enough to get me out of my room. But I wasn't too optimistic. I had never gotten out of my room before, and I wasn't about to get out now.

Then the most surprising thing happened.

I started shedding tears.

It was the first time it happened since I had regained my memories. I was embarrassed about it, since I had lived longer as a guy than I ever was as a girl, but I was also frustrated. I had never felt such hatred for the person who birthed me in this world. For as long as I could remember, all the parents I've had so far never laid a hand on me.

In my first life, my father had been nothing but kind to me. He was always patient and took care of me, even when he had been bedridden. I was devastated when he died while I had been gone.

During my second life, I have parents who had a kid for the first time. They were nervous about everything, intent to keep anything dangerous from me. Before I killed myself, I saw how devastated my mother had looked as she watched me die right before her eyes. I was a horrible child, in that one. But my parents were true and good.

Living as Ichiru, I only had a father again. He was a grave man, serious as always, and I got my disinterested attitude from him. I remember people comparing the two of us to 'dead fishes' from how we always looked unless we showed any other emotion. But even though he was always busy with work, he did his best to raise me well. I didn't need to hear that he loved me to know that he does.

As Jake, my mother and father were merely disappointed with me and the lifestyle I had chosen to live for myself. But nonetheless, it never got to the point of hate for either of us. I kept my respect for them as they still treated me like their son. They cared for me, and I cared for them.

But now, I was the unluckiest person to have lived. I was born in the slums, had nothing to my name, I had an abusive mother who wanted me dead, and I was born a _girl._

Of all times, it just had to be in this kind of era where crimes were prevalent in the slums. If that woman doesn't kill me first, others will.

For the first time, I felt _truly _helpless. And if I were to be truthful, it just made my hate grew and fester inside of me.

It was an ugly, _ugly _feeling.

By the time that woman came back, it had been a day later. At that point, my tears have stopped running and I promised myself I was never to shed tears anymore in this life.

* * *

She was getting worse and worse the more I grew older. She was getting creative as well, once throwing me out in the snow and tying me there to nearly freeze myself to death. She wanted me to apologize for having run away. Apparently, she hated my guts to want me out of her life but when I do just that, she gets even angrier.

But my pride was bigger than her's. I wasn't about to apologize for _anything_ and I never will. So I gritted my teeth and held on, slowly feeling the cold seep into my body.

It was cold.

_Cruel and cold._

I never knew that winters like this could be so harsh. I used to go out while it was snowing with nothing but khaki shorts, jacket, and a beanie to keep me warm. Yet here I am, wearing a long-sleeved dress and it _still _wasn't enough.

It was so, _so _cold.

I missed having a heated home. I _miss _not having an abusive parent.

I stayed there for what felt like forever. Seconds, minutes, _hours. _I wasn't sure how long I was out there.

If one of our neighbors hadn't took pity on me then, I probably wouldn't have survived. _She _however, had the nerve to come and get me at their house and lie to them that I tangled myself there. They hadn't believed her; it was obvious that I was deliberately tied there.

But when my shaking rendered me unable to even shook my head, they were forced to believe her.

Now, as horrible as that may be, there are other things she had done that was much worse.

During one of our fights, she easily overpowered me as usual and pushed me towards the stove. I had bumped my head first, making my head spin, so it took me a moment to realize the searing pain in my back.

I've never screamed so loud in my entire life.

I was constantly in pain the following weeks. If possible, I savored every moment that I was able to take a bath. Sometimes, I even voluntarily hung out, feeling like the cold that seeped through my clothes and skin cancelled out the burning pain in my back.

That had been a year ago, and I still have the horrible burns on the back of my left forearm and the left side of my back.

There were also times in which she would be out of the house for _days. _At first, it had been fine. I prefer not to see her anyway, but after the multiple attempts I made of running away, she took it upon herself to make sure that it wouldn't happen again. If she wasn't at the house, _I would be left tied up._

Then, if she was even back, the beatings merely continued and I _refused _to walk on glass around her. I fought back to the best that I could; scratching, biting, kicking, screaming and cussing. The tiny hope that the Mary Rose in me held of her stopping and finally having a chance to be a family, soon shattered and instead was replaced by hate.

'_I hate her,'_ that little girl would often think.

And I, in turn, would say for her,

"**I hate you."**

* * *

Once in awhile, we would get visitors.

If the woman was expecting them, I was told to be at my best behaviour, wearing my best long-sleeved dress to show face and to cover up the bruises that littered my body. My face would then be peppered with makeup; powder to hide the marks she left, and red lipstick to draw attention to them but also hide the bruises.

According to her, during those times, I was at my most 'beautiful', something I realized was more important to her than I ever was throughout the years.

Funny, isn't it? _Beauty _was the only thing she liked about me.

_What a shallow woman._

I hated having to play nice with her. But every time I tried to speak up, she would always tighten her hold on my shoulders. It made the bruises hurt so bad, the memories of being hit coming back, that I instantly clam up.

Horrible.

_Horrible._

If I had been any other girl, I wouldn't have kept together so well. The hate in me was perhaps the only reason why I still stayed sane after all these years. Though it was getting to the point where if I ever got a hold of anything sharp, I would not _hesitate_ to stab her.

Just so I could get out of here; away from this place and somewhere people actually wanted me.

Unfortunately, we couldn't even afford a new knife and the ones that we do have were dull blades that were kept out of reach.

"My, what a lovely child she is. So pretty like her mother."

"Why, thank you!" She gave a sidelong glance at my form as I sat beside her, my hands primly resting on my lap. "I believe my beauty is the only good she got from me."

I resisted the urge to be sarcastic.

The other person hummed, taking a sip on her cup of the cheapest tea we have on hand. Afterwards, she spoke.

"That may be so but she carries better I believe."

There was silence. Then my mother spoke, familiar anger rising in her unusually calm tone.

"…excuse me?"

"Well, she may have inherited your beauty but it suits her well. Especially her rare hair colour that shines like ruby."

"It's an ugly colour. It merely reminds me of blood." Mary Ann spat out heatedly. If their guest had noticed the change in tone, they hadn't said a word and merely cocked their head to the side.

"Oh really?"

It was said so casually, friendly even. It wasn't said out of malice but with how the woman beside me was clutching at her skirt, I already knew that I was going to be taking the full brunt of her anger later on.

Even so, despite the fear bubbling inside of me, I couldn't help the sick satisfaction I felt at knowing that I had been better than her at _something._

_Finally._ It felt like I actually had worth now.

I kept my head low, staring at the table like always, but the only difference was the small smile that I had in my face. I didn't know just how smug I had appeared until after our guest left and my mother stabbed me with a fork through my hand.

But despite the pain, I could only laugh at how pathetic _envy_ had looked like while she kept screaming at me, the fork digging further into my hand the more I let out my glee.

"_**SHUT UP!"**_

Perhaps I've already lost my sanity and I just hadn't noticed.

* * *

During the months that had passed by, everything could only go further downhill. But even so, my fear of her was slowly diminishing.

If Mary Ann could get even more spiteful of me, that time would be now. My open arrogance toward her was making things worse as well and I did not want it any other way. I have something that I could hold over her, after all.

Though, I had an inkling that I would not live long in this life. But for that very reason, I did my best to prepare for the time when I plan to be successful at running away.

Did I plan to murder this woman who gave birth to me?

_Yes,_ and I don't intend to stay in this world with her still walking amongst the living. All the wrong she had done to me kept piling up the longer we stay together. My pride wouldn't allow such person to exist only to terrorize and haunt me as I moved on.

_I would not allow it._

For that, I kept sneaking what little water I could so I can survive as I ran away. I had a bag I kept hidden underneath a floorboard by the corner of our living room where it was unlikely to be accidentally found. There, I had old clothes that I still kept over the years and some shawls from the witch that I stole.

It wasn't enough at the start, but in time, it would be enough to help me out there. When the time comes that I needed to leave, then I could do so quickly as well.

And when that happens…

I would be the happiest since the start of this horrible life.

* * *

I was eight years old when Mary Ann suspected that she was pregnant again.

Perhaps it had been because her work would be much harder if she lets it go on, perhaps it was because she realized she's a terrible mother, or perhaps it was because of how I had turned up.

But she wanted nothing to do with the baby.

So when a doctor from London was stationed to the slums to help the people rid of their problems, she didn't hesitate to meet them.

She came back one day with a woman, dressed in red and with a hair colour that immediately made my eyes go wide at the sight.

It was red.

But unlike some that I have seen so far that looked more orange than their warmer counterpart, it was actually _red; _a distinct colour that was very familiar.

I took a lock of my matted hair in between my fingers and compared it to her.

It was like ruby, the same as _mine._

For the first time, I was happy to see a guest.

As per usual, I was to dress in a way that hid the signs of abuse that Mary Ann inflicted on me. Then, seeing as how it this visit was important for her, I was told _not _to show myself, but I ignored her words.

Once she was out of sight to prepare tea, I came out of my room and strode confidently to the woman. She was roaming her eyes in our living room, eyeing our house with interest until she saw me give a curtsy from the corner of her eyes.

"Oh, hello there child," she had said in greeting and I gave her one of my best smiles in return as I raised my head.

"Hello as well."

I saw her give me a look over until she noticed my hair. A brief surprise flitted on her face for a moment before she smiled warmly. Just the sight of the kind gesture tugged at my heart instantly.

How could a stranger like this woman make me feel like I'm more important than my own _mother _does?

For once, I felt warm.

"I like your hair," she simply told me as she retrieved a lock of her bang to show it to me. "We have the same one, I believe."

I felt giddy instantly when she mentioned it first. "Like a ruby," I had agreed and she let out a small chuckle. I watched her do so, oddly feeling my gut instantly sink.

Disappointment.

_Was she laughing at me?_

She noticed the small frown tugging at my face and she immediately made to explain, "Oh, I apologize. I was just reminded of my sister. She always did like my hair and she told me the same thing as you."

She patted a gloved hand on the spot beside her on the dirty couch and I all too happily sat down.

"What's your name, lady?" I asked, and she smiled at me.

Placing a hand over her heart, she gave a small bow.

"My name is Angelina Dalles-Burnett. And you, dear?"

I grinned up at her. "I'm Mary Rose Nichols."

"Lovely name."

I was about to talk to her further but the other resident of the house entered at that moment. She froze at the sight of the two of us side by side. She hadn't expected to see me disobey her.

"Mary Rose, what are you doing out of your room?" She asked stiffly, looking between the two of us.

I ignored her and didn't answer, stubbornly keeping my gaze on the woman beside me. The nurse noticed the tense atmosphere of course and she tried to lighten it up.

"We were just talking, Mary Ann. Your daughter has a peculiar hair that I could help but ask her about it. I hope you don't mind."

"Nurse Burnett, I recommend you don't associate yourself with her. Complimenting a hair as sinister as blood would do nothing but get in her head."

There was silence, and I watched the other woman frown disapprovingly. She looked offended. _We had the same shade of hair._ I, meanwhile, mirrored the glare the witch was giving me at the comment.

The conversation that discussed the abortion was tense, up until the woman left to meet with the doctor she had come together with.

And for the next day, I was locked in my room and starved for my disobedience.

* * *

From what I heard from the witch when she talked with her friends, the doctors and his nurses would stay in the slums for a few weeks. They intend to help as much of the people as they could. There were numerous prostitutes that lived where we are, and it was the main hotspot for the rise in population in our city. For that reason, the Hospital of London decided to carry out a medical mission to help said prostitutes.

Of course, one of them was Mary Ann and in just a few days, she had her own abortion and went about as usual in her nights. It didn't even take her a few days to recover.

I, meanwhile, realized that Angelina and I shared a bond over our mutual similarities like our hair. Whenever I could, I snuck out to meet her every time she came to the slums. We got closer because of that. I found comfort in her presence, and in no time, I liked her better than the woman who gave birth to me.

Gentle touches, smiles, and the obvious concerns were much better than the heavy backhands, scowls, and disinterest for my wellbeing that I always get. It was the opposite of what I had known for this entire life and I wanted more of it.

It was as if I had been born blind and suddenly regained the ability to see. I didn't want to go back to that darkness, not when I had started to see.

_I refuse._

Throughout the next days, I got to know Angelina a lot better.

She married Baron Burnett and she has a sister whom she was close in age with and loved dearly. To her, she wouldn't exchange anything for the relationship she had with the two of them.

I listened to her talk, watching as she worked, but I didn't say anything about my own life. I only told her that my mother was a bitch with a careless shrug.

She looked like she wanted to ask about it every time. But she saw how the other woman had spoken badly about me. I knew that she had a feeling it went beyond exchanging scathing words.

But since I had refused to talk, nothing was ever cleared up and she was left wondering.

I didn't want to talk about what happened behind closed doors. The scars I have, the burns that stayed, and the hatred I held were something I didn't want to share.

…_I was ashamed, _really. At how weak I had been, and how my struggles weren't enough to amount to anything.

I hated that I was so _small, _in which these tiny hands of mine could only scratch away helplessly at my assailant.

I _hated _that my voice could only scream profanities and my mouth could only bite so much.

And I _hated _that I had been reborn as a girl.

I had lived longer as a young man, more than I had lived as a young woman. I had gotten accustomed to being strong and sometimes, even reveled at the intimidation I could use which otherwise wouldn't be impossible now. I was so strong back then. Now… I was just weak.

That shame that prodded painfully at my pride, _refused _to let me look so pathetic in front of others. I wanted to deal with all of this by myself and merely ruin my own life in the procress.

To drag Angelina in all of this…

Well, _I would hate the thought of it._

* * *

Angelina was too good for me, I realized.

I continued on sneaking out whenever Mary Ann wasn't home and those times were spent with the nurse, helping slightly with her work. We always enjoyed each other's company.

She has been lovely, and always smiled. I always welcomed the sight of her.

I really thought that would last really. Maybe it had been the Mary Rose in me that wanted a proper mother like she would wonderfully be in the future. Or maybe, it had been the Regina in me that wanted something, _anything, _that wasn't the abusive prostitute.

But…

_Even that wouldn't be possible._

After sneaking out one day, I came back to the house to a bad feeling.

And I was right to feel that way. Because there, by the corner beside the door, stood the familiar form of Mary Ann. She was holding the bag I took from her room in her hands; the contents having been spilled all over her; the clothes, the water bottles, the shawl; making an absolute mess on her feet.

My blood immediately ran cold at the sight of her.

I could feel my heart hammering loudly in my chest. The effects she had on me were absolutely terrifying. But even so, I always did my best to swallow my fears and face her head on.

But now, as she whirled around to glare at me with her seething eyes, I could only realize that I might just die that day.

…and for the first time, I was _truly __**afraid.**_

She marched towards me using quick strides and she took me by the hair. I flinched from the sharp pain as she started screaming.

"You little bitch! You were thinking of running away again, weren't you!? After all I've done for you! _This _is how you repay me!?"

She yanked at my hair in every direction, my head following her violent moves painfully. Already, I could feel the tears pricking the edge of my vision. I have always been treated like this and yet, why did it hurt so much more now?

I figured that it was because of the underlying threat of getting murdered being so, _so _real now.

_No._

_I don't want to __**die**__ yet._

With my tears staining my cheeks, I scratched at her hands to make her let go. Trying my best to break her iron grip on me.

"Let go of me! If you think I'm staying with willing, then you're wrong!" I kicked and screamed, letting my anger take over me. It was the only way I knew that would stomp down my feelings of fear. And in the process, I started letting out all the pent up rage I had in me; from both Mary Rose and Regina. "Not once did you ever do something right! _Not once! _And you never fucking will!"

"Oh, am I now!?"

She held up something to my face, and for a moment, I saw something glint. She had the scissors I stole in her hands and she started cutting away at my hair.

The cold, _cold _feeling of something being cut from my body by someone else filled my senses and I couldn't breathe. Nor could I even move from my spot. My hands stayed gripping her hands as she worked on maliciously cutting my hair.

"There! This is what you get!" I barely registered her cruel smile. "They say you looked prettier than me? They say that your hair is your best _charm? _Well, guess what! You don't look so beautiful now that you're hair isn't as pretty anymore, now are you!?"

She looked so happy getting rid of something so important to me.

It was wrong.

It was so, _so wrong._

"…stop…"

I was shocked, and could barely even muster the courage to speak up to her.

Angelina told me that she likes my hair. She always told me how pretty it was and that we were the same. She was a successful woman, who didn't abuse me nor would the thought even cross her mind.

She was so good to me.

_She was way too good to me._

And yet.

…

..

.

**This hair of mine is…**

"You look just as ugly as all the others out there! Without the face I gave you, you're just _nothing! _Did you hear me!? _NOTHING!"_

…_and then the hate in me boiled over._

It happened too fast. One moment, she was screaming at me and yanking at what was once my long hair. And now, I had thrown a punch and it connected with her nose.

The familiar sound of it cracking was awfully comforting. And for a moment, I reveled in the high it gave me.

_Finally, _I did something to hurt her.

But that wasn't enough. _It will never be enough._

At that moment, she started moving again, and I watched in cruel satisfaction as her face morphed into surprise once she realized what had happened. She let go of me and the scissors she was holding. It gave me enough time to grab them as they were falling, _and stabbed her with it._

It had pierced through her petticoats and buried itself in her upper thigh.

Her slow scream started and that was when I ran.

Having done what I just did, it felt wonderful and exhilarating. But if I stayed here any longer, it would be at the cost of my own life.

It seems that I would have to run away sooner than I had planned.

She was blocking the door, and judging from how time was progressing, I wouldn't have enough time to push past her and open it. My only option was the witch's bedroom. There, I would be able to lock the door and take that time to open the window and escape through there.

As soon as I closed the door, bangs immediately followed and I struggled to lock it. Afterwards, I ran towards the window and opened it with much difficulty.

I stayed crouching at the window sill once I did and looked back at the door. Cold, cold wind entered the room and breezed by me, snow accompanying them. The effect was making the hair on my skin stand and I shivered, my breath freezing in mid-air, turning into white fog. The wind easily pierced my clothing but I couldn't care less about it.

Even the hot tears that had stopped running down my cheeks immediately felt cold.

_"Mary Rose! How dare you stab me! You little bitch! After I've raised you! After all I've _done!"

I watched as the door rattled and with a loud slam, it was opened by force. Mary Ann only had a few seconds to see me by the window before I had jumped out.

I ran and ran and ran and ran and ran _and ran._ I kept running, and I didn't stop.

I didn't care that it was so cold outside. I didn't care that people merely watched as I did so, Mary Ann just right at my heels, limping her way towards me. I just want to get away.

Anywhere from here.

_Anywhere._

Before I knew it, the road became familiar and I realized I was running towards the main road by the Thames.

And there, by a convoy of carriages, was a familiar red-haired woman.

It was _Angelina._

She was being escorted inside one of the carriages and just the sight of her made tears well up again.

That was right. This was their last day here in the slums. After this day, she would never come back again. I would never see her again and I didn't want that.

I wanted to talk more.

I wanted to smile more.

I wanted to be with her more.

_Please… don't leave me!_

Before I knew it, I was calling out to her desperately.

"Angelina! _Angelina! Please!"_

When she turned, there was a brief surprise in her face before that turned into horror. She ran to meet me and I met her hug for a brief moment before I immediately pulled away.

"Mary Rose! _What's wrong?" _She took my tear-stained face in her hands and she couldn't believe the bruises she was seeing on me. Her red eyes went to my hair and it widened considerably. "Your _hair!"_

"She did this!" I pulled on my long sleeves and showed to her all of my bruises that were in the middle of healing, along with the new ones. Then I hastily lifted my skirt and showed all the other bruises they hid. "She did _all _of this! Please, don't take me back there! _Please, I beg of you!"_

I began sobbing as the horrible memories I suppressed for both me and Mary Rose came rushing back. It was accompanied by _pain, _as if all of my bruises and wounds happened at the same time. The beatings, the burn on my back, the freezing cold.

It hurts so much.

"…please. Take me away from here. _I don't want to go back…" _I whispered, as I wrapped my arms around her tightly.

Angelina's face was full of concern, and foremost, _anger_ as she held me delicately. It was as if I was a glass that would easily shatter. I wouldn't doubt that I would. If I were rejected and was sent back as I feared, I may truly lose my mind.

"_Mary Rose!"_

I flinched at the enraged voice. _It was Mary Ann._ She had caught up to me, and no doubt, she was to take me back with her.

I held on to Angelina's sleeve way too tightly, and she noted the fear I had in my face. She very carefully released my grip on her and patted my hand reassuringly before she stood to her full height.

"Don't worry, child. I will take care of this."

She calmly walked past me and I whirled around to see her approach Mary Ann's limping form. The two of them stopped a few metres away from each other. And once the other had started talking, she stayed calm and said nothing.

"Mary Rose, stop lying to the good nurse, okay?" Her tone was sweet, and kind. She had _never _used that kind of tone to me. She was always demeaning and rude. She wanted to hurt me, not just physically but emotionally. This was the same person who told me that I was nothing just minutes ago. "Come back to me, my daughter. This is just a misunderstanding. _I'm not mad."_

"Liar," I responded, clutching my arms to keep my shaking hands from showing. She looked surprised to hear that and she opened her mouth to say something, but Angelina spoke first.

When she did, it was a calm question.

"Is it true?"

Mary Ann looked from me to Angelina and she made to smile, as if to fool the nurse like she had fooled the others. "No, it's not. I—"

The nerve that she would deny it just like that. Like all the time she showed face to her friends. She wanted to fool them into thinking that nothing was ever wrong in our house when in reality, she made life hell for _me._

I cannot forgive that.

And I never will.

"_You monster!"_

Both turned to me in surprise at my sudden outburst. There, I stood under the cloudy sky, snow covering my shaking form. All of a sudden, I wasn't afraid anymore. I was just mad, like always; just like how Jake always was. I didn't bother to hide my shaking hands anymore, not when I had curled around my skirt and it did nothing to stop them.

"You monster," I repeated, turning my red eyes up at her bloodied face and glared. "All of those things you did to me! You are not my mother! And you will never will! You're just a _monster!"_

"Shut up, you ungrateful brat! You deserved all of it!"

Mary Ann then immediately clasped her one bloodied hand on her mouth, gasping. She hadn't to let that slip. And from Angelina's furious glare, she knew that there wasn't coming back from it now.

"No, I did not," I spoke quietly to myself, with the red-haired nurse as my only audience near enough to hear me. "Not those burns and not those cuts. No… I didn't deserve those. I don't… _I really don't…"_

Before I knew it, the fear and tears were back and I clutched my head to keep the memories from haunting me further. How had I managed to keep myself together all these years? When was the last time I even broke down crying like I am now? I couldn't even remember the last time I slept without waking up to an empty house with only my fear to accompany me.

And when I have been kept awake until morning, _she_ would be back and my nightmares would come to life. I remember that I always put up a front, trying my best to fight back, but in the end, she would always overpower me.

Then I would be left alone, whimpering, _begging._

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. _I'm so sorry, I deserved all of it."_

Angelina had enough.

"I knew that something had been amiss from the start. From her frail, malnourished form, her refusal to talk about home, and finally, to your demeaning words to her from that time of my visit."

Her rummaging through her pocket caught my attention and I looked up through blurry eyes to see her pull out a pouch filled with money. Mary Ann eyed her do so with wide eyes. The bag was then thrown at snow below, spilling the gold coins around her.

"The girl is with me. Never see her _or _contact her again." Angelina announced as she turned her back and walked towards me. She held my hand in hers before she carried me in her arms. "Let us go, Mary Rose. I will take care of you from now on." She promised to me, her voice just as soft as when she had first complimented me.

She patted my head and I buried myself in her hold, heaving a small relieved breath. The tears were now coming out soft to reflect the feeling of finally being safe.

I didn't answer her yet.

Instead, I fixed my gaze on the woman we left behind, as she collapsed on her knees while staring at us leave. She looked… heartbroken, in a way, and I could've sworn I saw tears staining her cheeks.

But I looked away before the image of her could burn further in Mary Rose and I's minds.

No… just _my _mind, now.

"It's Regina," I quietly murmured to Angelina and she hummed in response.

"Is that right?" She tightened her hold on me so that I was enveloped in her hug and I immediately reciprocated the gesture. "Then I will call you Regina from now on."

For the first time, I felt oddly at peace. And not only I, but also Mary Rose.

"_Thank you," _she told me and I said in return,

"You're welcome."

* * *

A/N: _Done and done! I was honestly late with finishing this one. I was supposed to have it done back in 12 but I got distracted… and decided to procrastinate ehehe;;_

_So please forgive me! I tried my best TTvTT_

_I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter about Regina's current fifth life! I wanted to write something about how I would potentially put her in Madame Red's path and how she will affect the woman in the future. So I guess she got an unlucky draw hahaha!_

_See you guys again in two weeks!_


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